Years Of Travel...

lover... the tongue severed, chopped in tiny pieces, laid carefully in a box, that sits silently screaming on your shelf! the heart does not know faces or names, is not bound by distance, 1000 miles, or 20 feet across the room... that seems even further. we die a thousand deaths at each other's feet. love's crucifixions, bodies wrapped in cloth, and perfumed. souls drawn to each other, clothed, yet bare naked. live wires touching, that light up the night... drinking the darkness that names! intimate strangers, are we ever any more? even after years of travel, so much we dont know... even after years of travel!